


Pass the Courvoisier

by Midwest_Cryptid



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Asexual Character, Drunken Confessions, Emotional Constipation, Help, I'm Sorry, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Slow Burn, Tags Are Hard, This Is STUPID, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2019-11-26 20:10:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18185177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Midwest_Cryptid/pseuds/Midwest_Cryptid
Summary: Angel wasn't one for relationships, he had friends, had a life of his own, and didn't need anyone to weigh him down. Since coming to hell, all of his relationships were purely physical, until he crossed paths with Alastor. Finding an unlikely friend (and more importantly drinking partner) in the radio demon, things seem constant. That is, until a confession is made over poor circumstances. Will these two dumbasses be able to be honest with themselves, and more importantly, each other? Find out in this trainwreck of a story.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (This is based on the "drunk Alastor" request from one of the streams with their voice actors. If you're unfamiliar, go watch it and come back to this. ) This first chapter is kinda short, as I've been swamped with things to do and haven't had much time for writing. Anyways, I really like this ship and I think it needs more content so I'll try to update soon! ♡

Angel Dust wasn't a smart demon. When he signed up to be the hotel's first (and only, so far) patient, he hadn't really considered what going clean would entail. No more shows, no more wild parties, no more liquor or clients or porn. And especially no more drugs. It was hard enough to act goody-goody, but to have nothing to numb the boredom, annoyance, routine room-searches, and pure cabin-fever was a nightmare. But he also wasn't about to crush Charlie's dream. She was a good kid, with a good (if hard to achieve) cause, and no matter how shoddy, he did have some semblance of a conscience. So he sat in his small suite, pampered his pet pig, Nuggets, went swimming in the hotel pool, and lounged around, occasionally getting the odd bit of fan mail, or a visit from Cherri. But Angel had a secret, a crutch that made it all bearable, which had to do with the aforementioned Cherri. Twice a month, Cherri would sneak him out, then, they'd go to their usual club, an underground bar-and-dancehall combo, Angel would get himself dolled up, and they'd spend the night dancing, flirting, and most importantly, getting blackout drunk. Angel didn't take drugs or clients on these monthly reprieves, as the money from the job would be hard to explain when his room was next checked, and even he knew going back to drugs after this long of a break would wreak havoc on him. It was a good little routine, as well-practiced as any, until Alastor showed up.

The Radio demon was an enigma to Angel. His motives for helping the hotel were unclear, he didn't cross paths much with him, except for their first meeting, and Angel knew virtually nothing about him. He didn't exactly know why he wanted to know more about the radio demon, so he chalked it up to boredom. A fresh face would be interesting, of course, he wasn't client material, that was for certain. Angel had hanflded him his card when they first met, only for it to be politely, yet firmly, handed back to him. He heard from Cherri that he was Ace, that is to say Asexual, but noone really knew where he swayed romantically, if he even was up for that. It wasn't like Angel had been asking around, he didn't have time for relationships, especially not with some Strawberry Pimp with a trans-Atlantic accent, and that was that.


	2. Drag queens and drinking buddies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty! Sorry chapter 2 has taken awhile, and sorry it's another short one. Anyways, Enjoy! ♡☆

It was the last day if the month which meant Angel was in high spirits. Tonight was his monthly escape from the hotel, and he planned to enjoy it to the fullest. So he chose a suitable outfit and wig (he almost always went out in drag, less recognizable that way) and spent the day messaging Cherri about the details. 

Finally, midnight came, and Cherri was rapping at his window (as in knocking sharply on it, she wasn't just straight up dropping rhymes outside Angel's window. She wasn't that drunk. Yet.) " 'Sup bitch. Your fairy godmother is here to take you to the ball." Angel rolled his eyes, but smiled "Yeah, good to see you too, toots. But last I recalled, the fairy godmother wasn't in the business of breakin' drag queens out of rehab." Cherri snickered. "Well, tonight she is! Bippity-boppity-boo motherfucker, the car is waiting!" After a treacherous climb down the hotel, in heels no less, they made it to Cherri's convertible, and hit the gas.

Once at the club, they both scoped out the scene. They both decided to hit the dancefloor and work up a thirst before they got their drinks. Besides, Angel needed to stretch his legs, it had been far too long since he danced. He glanced over at Cherri, who surprsingly, had stopped dancing, and her face fell. She was saying something to him, but over the pounding base and obscene lyrics, he couldn't hear her. Finally, Cherri grabbed his face, and moved it so he could see what she was staring at. Across the room, at a table away from the noise, sat none other than Alastor, and he was waving to them.

Maybe he didn't recognize him, must have mistaken him for someone else. Yeah. That had to be it. That hope was short lived when he strode up to the dance floor, practically wading through the sea of dancing demons to get to him. Angel didn't dare run. What if Charlie knew, oh God. He was screwed. And he didn't even get drunk! He yelled above the music. "Heya Alastor, fancy seein' you here. Huh. Wow. Uh.. Look, I'm really sorry about all of...this. But I swear it was a one-time thing!! I haven't even been drinking! Oh, for fuck's sakes, just please don't tell Charlie! Vaggie'll have my head." Alastor laughed. Apparently, he could hear him just fine over the music. "My dear fellow, you aren't in trouble! In fact, I was going to offer to buy you and your companion a drink! Honestly, Mr... Dust, was it? I didn't take you for a paranoid one. Now, if you'd like to indulge me with your company, may we leave this atrocious contraption?"


	3. Author's note

Yo my dudes! Thanks so much for reading so far! I'm sorry the break is always so long between chapters, writer's block and school have both been awful. Chapter four is in the works though! Again, glad you guys have been liking this story! ♡☆


	4. Mixed drinks, mixed feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alastor and Angel find common ground, Cherri gets blackout drunk, and Angel lies to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aljsldjxjzbsk ugh. I'm so sorry this took so long. It wasn't saving so I had to rewrite it five times.

By "atrocious contraption" Angel was surprised that Alastor only meant the dancefloor and not the bar in its entirety. Once sat at his table near the back, the waitor came and took their drink orders, and then they waited. Cherri's acrylics clicked away at her phone screen, most likely texting a friend of her's to brag that she had gotten a free drink from the radio demon. Disliking the silence, Angel spoke. "So. I'm really not gettin' in trouble about this? This isn't some crazy test the girls've set up, is it?" Alastor laughed. "My good man, what would I have to gain by getting you in trouble?" The waiter came with their drinks, a tumbler of expensive cognac for Alastor, an appletini for Angel, and some over-the-top fruity drink for Cherri. She liked the little umbrellas. "No, it's not a test of resisting temptation, not a test at all. You're not the only one who enjoys a break from redemption now and again." He sipped his drink. He must have noticed the look on Angel's face, because he spoke again. "Yes, yes. I know that, -technically- I'm free to come and go as I please, but, it looks a bit... hypocritical, doesn't it? I spend my days at a luxury halfway house, and then spend my nights at a den of booze and betting? Doesn't look good. So I come in every once in a blue moon." Angel was caught off balance. He didn't expect that Alastor, well, had fun. He looked like he spent his time not slaying demon overlords sitting in a empty toom eating saltines. "Huh. Well. I guess I didn't expect-" Alastor interrupted him "That I don't walk with a stick up my ass all the time?" Cherri spit out her drink and cackled. Angel, dumbstruck, laughed too. "You're forgetting that I lived in the roaring twenties! I know how to have fun." He polished off his drink and winked at Angel. "Nothing wrong with a bit of sin in moderation." Angel, not to be outdid, finished his and ordered another. It was at this moment they both realized Cherri was no longer at the table, only her five empty margarita glasses. That was never a good sign. As if on queue, a loud whoop was heard from the dancefloor. Good, she hadn't left without him. Walking home in these heels would be a bitch. Alastor broke the silence between them. "So, Angel, forgive me for prying, but at what time period did you exist upon this earth?" Angel stared. Noone had ever really asked him that before, but he could gather it wasn't as obvious as his father or brother. "1940s. Well, I died then. Born early 20s. Too young to enjoy it though." He chuckled and sipped his drink. "Born into a crime family. Italian. Proper mafia man, at least, that's what I shoulda been." Alastor nodded. "Such a shame.." "Excuse me?" Angel quirked a penciled eyebrow at Alastor. "Oh! Not about your family's buisiness, the fact that you didn't get to fully experience the 1920s." He sighed wistfully. "I'm afraid I don't know you well, Angel. But I do know you'd have loved it." Angel felt oddly touched, though he couldn't quite place why. He blamed it on the alchohol. Still, he had to ask. "Huh? Why?" Alastor beamed at him. "Why? My good man, are you familiar with what the pansy craze was?" Angel felt a little slighted, and after all of this nice conversation, too. "I'm sorry, what did you say?!" "No, my dear fellow, I wasn't trying to insult you! Back in my day, drag performers such as yourself were known as pansy performers, or simply pansies. Not a very sensitive way of referral, but, it was a sign of the times." He shrugged "Anyways, the pansy craze was a time during the mid 1920s when such performers experienced quite the surge in popularity! I even did a few reports on it! Marvelous shows, and marvelous people, those performers! I carried on a friendship with quite a charming drag king, until of course," he shifted in his seat. "She discovered who the radio killer was. Such a crying shame." Angel was fascinated. He'd never once taken Alastor as the type to know anything about that, let alone embrace it, but the real kicker came when he said. "And one queen, oh he was marvelous. Both in and out of drag. Scintillating wit and fantastic bone structure. Never had the guts to tell him how I felt. Worried I wouldn't be enough, I suppose. You know, being in a relationship with one so discomfited with sex. But, such is life." He noticed Angel staring and he put on that radio host smile again. "But that isn't your responsibility to know, my good man! Do forgive me for my tangent." Angel smiled. "Nah, don't worry 'bout it! That's..really neat, actually. Uh, thanks for tellin' me about that. And as for that guy," he finished his drink. "his loss, amirite?" Angel, testing his luck, spoke again. "So, Al. You don't do sex, right?" Alastor nodded. "Never appealed to me." "But, ya can like, be in a relationship with someone, right?" Once again Alastor nodded. "In not so many words, yes. I do experience romantic attraction." "Cool, cool. So, do ya like guys, gals, both? Sorry if I'm oversteppin' my bounds here." Alastor smiled "Not at all, my friend. I suppose I do experience attraction to both men and women, and I suppose that extends to those outside the binary too." He mused. Angel smiled. The drinks were finally taking effect, making him feel comfortably warm and flushed. Alastor was handsome, noone could really deny that, least of all him. But he told himself that alchohol makes any man attractive, and even so, Alastor was only being a gentleman. Out of nowhere, Angel felt like apologizing. "Hey, uh, by the way, sorry for all those times I hit on ya. It was before I knew, y'know, ya weren't into that stuff. Thanks for treating me and Cherri to the drinks, you're a pretty swell drinking partner, ya know that?" Alastor smiled in a bemused sort of way. "Why, thank you Angel. And it's really not a problem. You're quite the character at times, but...my afterlife has been a lot less boring since I've made your acquaintance. It was a pleasure to run into you, I'm glad we found common ground. Now if you'll excuse me, it's almost 5:00 in the a.m." Angel reeled. The time had never flown like that. He had to find- "Hey, Angie! We gotta go! Like, fight the hell now!" Cherri. Who was now running from a bouncer. What a night it had been.


End file.
